


Rose Colored Boy

by Taurielo



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Confusion, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, For a minute, Innocent Jerome Valeska, Insanity, Possessive Behavior, inmate reader, then he's insane again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 12:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taurielo/pseuds/Taurielo
Summary: Jerome Valeska is a deranged maniac, but what happens when you end up a part of his world and he expects you to keep up with him. Will he help you grow? Or will things crumble into a deeper chaos?





	1. Entering the Madhouse

**Author's Note:**

> This is double-posted on my Tumblr, hope ya'll enjoy!

Eyes bleak and empty, your mouth covered by a hard and heavy guard. Hair disheveled and and hands cuffed tightly behind your back. You could feel the harsh grip on your arms from the guards dragging you, knowing there would dark hand-shaped bruises upon them soon after.  
The heavy metal doors of Arkham asylum were pushed open by two more guards; both armed and a reminder of what would happen if you tried anything. You were instantly met with the howls of insanity. Shrieks echoed through the hallways, bouncing off the stained white walls and into your ears. Your brows furrowed and a grimace was upon your lips beneath the shield of the guard.   
As you were weaved deeper into the maze of lunatics you were met with jeers and shouts from inmates behind the bars, some daring to reach out and grab out to you before beaten back by one of the six guards accompanying you. On your way you passed what seemed to be a common room of sorts, you had obviously piqued the interest of those inside as they had moved from their tables to the bars, curious to see the fresh meat. You narrowed your eyes taking in the more diverse faces, these were not the typical mad men and women: there was an air of control and confidence surrounding them. The blonde you had easily recognised, Barbara Kean famous in the art scene. You tilted your head in thought of her incarceration. You quickly scanned the others; a portly psychotic man, a dazed thin one, a well kept older man, an incredibly large one and a young ginger. Your eyes widened upon contact with his. He couldn’t be much older or younger than yourself, yet the manic but oddly charming smile reminded you he was here for a reason, but so were you.  
You tore your gaze away from the dashing red head before one of your escorts would forcefully turn your head but you couldn’t help the flutter in your stomach as that smile remained in your head.   
After being stripped, hosed and shoved into prison wear the guard on your mouth was loosened and removed before you were quickly pushed into a small and dark cell. The thick iron door was slammed shut, the only source of light was a dim ceiling lamp.  
Reaching your hand to rub your jaw you let out a quiet curse before taking in what little surroundings you had; the walls were padded and off white, the floor of smooth concrete. A standard metal toilet was in the far corner and opposite sat a rusted framed bed with a thin mattress and blankets you could already tell would scratch and scrape at your skin.   
Your attention turned to your outfit fingers pulling at the thick cotton. You cringed at the rather low neckline and bouncy skirt: for an institution for the criminally insane they had a rather interesting choice in female inmate uniform.   
Mere minutes passed as you paced meaninglessly round the confines of your cell. You jolted at the sudden bang of the sliding peephole being rammed open, turning to face the door you waited patiently to be spoken too.   
“Inmate B-127, Y/N L/N correct?” The deep and condescending voice spoke.  
“Doctor  , you understand why you’re in here I assume?” The Doctor continued. You looked down at your shuffling feet, your thumbs twiddled behind your back as you opened your mouth ready to defend yourself let him know it wasn’t your fault. Before you could utter a sound you were cut off. The doctor’s harsh voice filling the room.  
“Miss. L/N, you are more than aware that you brutally killed two women and gravely injured a third with nothing but a dinner tray and your own nails and teeth.”   
Well when you put it like that, there was no arguing. You promptly shut your mouth. There was no use in arguing, it would only lead to more punishment in this hell hole. The Doctor took your silence as an act of obedience and continued.   
“Some extra rules will be set out for you, due to your ‘issues’. You will be kept in solitary confinement for a week, only leaving for your daily therapy sessions. After that you will be permitted to be around other inmates, however, you may not leave your cell without the facial guard. It’s for the safety of all others, you understand?”   
His hooded and stoney eyes glared over your form. Your eyes were still trained on your loafer clad feet, a small hum of acknowledgement exiting you.   
“Do you understand?” He repeated, with much more firmness, a harsh stare boring into your head". You replied meekly, a yes leaving your mouth. With a heartless goodnight the eyelet was banged shut and only moments later the lights flickered off.  
You sighed, long and deep, and tossed yourself on the joke of a bed. You pulled the thin sheet over your body: the room was already cold. You turned your body so you faced the soft walls, your now blunt nails scratched down the thick fabric. After your hand had traced down the wall you let it drop to your side and your eyes closed for the final time that night.

Everyday you were awoken with the clanging of batons upon metal, the shouts of prison guards and the ever constant screeching. If there was one thing you were thankful for it was the solitary cell. Unlike the usual cells the doors were windowless allowing for a more muffled entrance of the ghastly noises.   
You rolled over and sat up, rolling your shoulder in your hand and groaning in pain. Seven nights sleep and you were stiff as a rock. Slowly you began to stand up and stretch; your back clicking as you pulled. As you were letting your arms fall you were brought out of your early morning daze by the familiar sound of the shutter opening.   
“Inmate B-127 stand in the centre of the room facing the wall, hands behind your back.” The gruff voice of a guard ordered and you did as you were told. The door was then roughly pulled open and two guards walked in. One handcuffing you while the other pulled your head up to attach the mask to your mouth as quickly and tightly as he could.   
You were then turned around to face the Doctor who you had become quite familiar with over the past week.   
“Congratulations Miss L/N, you’ve spent an entire week without incident, I must admit I was sure there would be some violent behavioural issues from your file.” He paused to let out a dry chuckle,”But as I said to begin with you will now be transitioned into socialising of some sorts with the other inmates.”  
Your eyes widened, nose shrivelling at the thought: you were finally beginning to become used to your new routine only to be thrown into a whole new world again. Without warning you were roughly pulled from your cell by the two guards. As you left the Doctor caught your upper arm, adding more to the bruises.   
“Play nice.” He uttered coldly and sharply turned away as you were dragged to the madness. 


	2. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome approaches and a friendship, of sorts begins.

The ‘dining’ room was packed, inmates scurrying around from table to table but time seemed to stop once you were pushed into the room. the barred door was slammed shut behind you. For a moment all eyes were on you, awkward and uncomfortable you shuffled to the edge of the room as the majority of heads turned back to their incessant madness. Your head was instantly down and your arms crossed over your body, insecurity bubbling up in your stomach. Your eyes clenched shut and you were soon missing the bleak insides of your solitary cell.  
After taking a deep breath you looked up, scouting for a clear space to sit, “if I’m to spend your time here I might as well be comfortable” you thought to yourself. As you scanned the room you noticed an empty table near the windows, no one else seemed to be moving towards it so you took it as a sign from whatever cruel god there was to make a beeline for it. Still sticking to the walls, you quickly made your way to the steel furniture. Once you reached the promised land of the table you plotted down on the hard seat and smiled lightly, your tired eyes shining with the smallest sliver of happiness.  
Not even a minute later your peace was instantly disrupted. It was the ginger from before, his bright hair was instantly recognisable among the melancholy colours of the asylum. With brisk steps he made his way to your island of a table, your eyes slowly narrowing as he got closer, silently praying he would be going past you. Sure, he was gorgeous but you were much happier left to your demons alone. Judging by the way his own pale green eyes were on you, you knew were he was headed.   
You turned your head down hoping he would turn away if you ignored him. You were suddenly jolted; a thud on the table alerting your senses. No outer noises, however, you knew he was there waiting for you to make the first move. Your fist clenched underneath the table, nails biting into the skin of your inner palm. You repeatedly told yourself “Don’t look up, he’ll go away” but alas, curiosity got the best of you and with a shaker breath you slowly lifted your head.   
There he was, only a few feet opposite from you. His pale freckled hands held his head up, arms resting on the dull metal. His face, God his face, was probably the most gorgeous one you’d ever seen. If you weren’t in the asylum you would have fawned over the single curl that had escaped the rest of his neatly pushed back hair. What was the most noticeable was the smile. It was more of a cheshire grin the same manic but beautiful one you had seen upon your arrival. The expression only widened once your eyes finally locked with his, and in that moment you were hooked. You couldn’t pry away even if you wanted to.  
“Well, hello there missy. Aren’t you an interesting one?” he spoke with a chuckle, his voice was raspy. He looked you up and down, his grin morphing into a smirk. The insecurity you had once entering came flooding back, your arms moving from your lap to cross over your front. He looked back up to your eyes before continuing.  
“I’m Jerome, here for killin’ my oh so brilliant mother,” He continued to speak nonchalantly, one of his hands moved to wave around as he spoke as he was waving the cruel words away like nothing. You began to zone out, his voice being tuned out to background noise.  
Your eyes widened at his crimes, he was so calm. He didn’t care what he did, nor regret it, where as yourself. You couldn’t bare the thought. In all honesty you didn’t want to hurt them. You just snapped. Lost control. The little voices at the back of your head urging you to let go, ignore all consequences  and you did. The girls were horrid, cruel, heartless abusers of others mentally and on some cases physically, to say the least your high school experience wasn’t the best with those monsters of girls. But still you wished you had kept the anger in check. If so you wouldn’t be here.  In this dump of a facility. Well at least no one else would have to deal with their torture anymore.   
You were shocked out of your drifting state of mind by a hand being slammed onto the table. You looked up at Jerome, gulping at the dangerous glint in his eyes.  
“I said, what would your name be sweet stuff?” With this your eyebrows furrowed, arm raising to point at the heavy guard over your lower face.   
“Oh that’s right, you can’t speak! That is absolutely pitiful” What began as a chuckled evolved into a full on cackle, his head tipping back in laughter. You glared and grimaced at him. He may be good looking but damn was he annoying. His incessant laughter was soon cut off by a female voice  coming from behind you.  
“Shut it clown, her name is (Y/N) so you can use that and cut it out with the nicknames.”  
Jerome looked up, a slight frown on his face.  
“Hi to you too Babs, great to see you again.” He spoke with a scowl, clearly these two didn’t get along too well.   
‘Don’t call me that”  
You whipped around, head looking up at the Barbara Kean. You had met her before, as you were interested in art before. Your parents often took you to the exhibitions she held, fairly chummy with each other.  
Your eyes widened at her memory of your name. She looked down at you. Her pink lips turning from a frown at Jerome to s soft smile.   
“Yes I remember you, sweetie. Although I didn’t expect to ever see you here. Must of disappointed dear ol’ Mommy and Daddy” You looked down at this, her tone condescending. Your parents had left Gotham a long time ago due to unforeseen reasons. They wouldn’t ever know a thing of you. She noticed your dampened attitude and knelt down, her long fingers lifting your chin up to face her.  
“Aw, I’m sorry didn’t mean to make you upset-“ She was soon cut off, her harm being snatched away by a clearly annoyed Jerome.  
“I got her first Babs, so if you would kindly go back to the idiots you’ve tamed that would be great.” You turned to face him, shocked at his bluntness. Not even 10 minutes of knowing him and you were already an object, just great.  
“Fine. But don’t blame me if she comes running to me after having to deal with your bullshit.” She smirks at him before walking back to the table full of interesting characters. You follow her retrieving form, saddened slightly.   
Jerome’s handsome smile reappeared again, his focus back to you.  
“So, (Y/N) huh? Cute, I like it.” With that, you were for once thankful for the mask on your face, if not you were sure you would’ve been teased for the blooming redness on your face. It was insane what one little comment from a beautiful, albeit annoying, boy could do to you. Maybe it was the lack of social contact or your weakened state of mind or both, either way you knew that being at Arkham was not going to improve your mental health in any way.

Minutes turned into hours turned into days, and you had found yourself oddly fond of Jerome and his over zealous antics. You had integrated into the small group of his so-called friends (also known as Barbara’s tamed idiots), finding their strange stories and behaviours somewhat interesting. Spending time with Jerome had become, dare you say it, enjoyable? You were unable to actively participate in conversations due to the guard which still remained on your face yet he had quickly picked up on your emotions and responses from the expression in your eyes and the quiet hums you made. In all honesty it brightened your day when you were with him. Instead of looking forward to your dark cell every evening, you would impatiently wait to see him and the group in daytime.  
It was another day, the rag tag collection of you were lounged around a table, Barbara resting upon Richard, her legs upon Aaron. You and Jerome sat back to back, leaning on each other to stay upright. Greenwood and Arnold were on his right the latter off with the faeries.   
After a moment of comfortable silence Barbara spoke up, evidently bored.  
“Somebody tell me a funny story.” Both you and Jerome looked over at her, you made eye contact only for him to roll his eyes at her making you giggle underneath.  
Richard spoke up, eager to entertain her.  
He was only a few moments into his somewhat interesting story about his college years and whatnot before he was silenced by a boisterous, rather portly man.  
“Greetings! I am Zaardon, the Soul Reaper!” Not sparing a second glass you all turned away ignoring the freakish man and Richard continued his story as if nothing happened. A few minutes later and this “Zaardon” guy was visibly annoyed. With heavy steps he hauled himself onto the table and began to yell about surrounding souls and blah blah blah. You had turned your brain off at that point. It was only till Jerome had saddlery stood up, almost making you fall back that you realised what was happening. The man had collapsed onto the table top, from his mouth a thick blue smoke was being emitted. You rushed to stand, your hand instinctively grabbed onto Jerome’s sleeve. You began to inch closer to the wall but you legs became weaker. The air smelt chemically, it was causing your head to pound and eyes spin. Soon enough the tight grip you had on Jerome was faltering.  
With one last look of panic he fell the ground, and you followed soon after. The booming sound of the alarm system was faint and distant. What looked like leather boots entered your blurry eyes yet that was the last thing you saw before your vision faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this part of Rose Coloured Boy, which yes is based off the Paramore song, stay tuned for the next part, I’d love to hear from you guys so don’t be shy to send me a message.


	3. Theo Galavan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Theo Galavan, You have suspicions but Jerome is much too eager to take part in the chaos.

You awoke with a sharp intake of breath, your head snapped upwards in an instant. You were upright, your head was aching and your vision slowly coming into focus. You pulled your arm to rub your head only to be restricted. You angled your head down to notice you were strapped up, leather belts keeping you fastened down. You finally looked to take in your surroundings, as best as you could with your restrictions. Straight ahead you were met with the Gotham skyline, stacks of buildings meeting the dreary grey sky. You had never seen the city from such heights and i it were not for the gravity of current situation you would have gasped in admiration for the amazing view. You moved your gaze round the room you were currently situated in was spacious and decorated with various high end accoutrements. Whoever ‘rescued’ you was most defiantly on the wealthy side of the scale.  
You strained your neck to face your right. Richard was on the very end followed by Robert and Aaron. You craned your head to to the bear-like man, a heavy set yet childish frown upon his face. As if he sensed your eyes he turned down to you causing you to quickly whip your head back to facing forward. After a moment you turned to your left and your eyes lit up at the sight of your favourite nuisance.   
The wicked grin inched up his face as you made eye contact.   
“Good to see you’ve finally woken up, I was beginning to think the gas killed you!” A boisterous cackle left him causing shock upon your features at his so called joke. Shaking it off you turned back away from him. To think for a moment he was getting softer on you, clearly you were wrong. Noticing your annoyance at him Jerome began to speak again, tone much kinder this time but before he could say anything of substance he was cut off by the sound of footsteps and the voice of another man.  
“Welcome everyone, my name is Theo Galavan, and this is my sister Tabitha.” The man was tall, his dark hair swept to the side and a proud smirk upon his features. His eyes scanned over you all much like a hawk. He looked down on you, his very aura radiation power and arrogance. The others talked, various noises of confusion and distaste, yet you watched him with narrowed eyes as he steeped closer to you all. He began to talk. Talk of greatness in each and everyone of you, talk of power and talk of chaos. Jerome was obviously pleased, voicing his opinion loud and clear, while still managing to insult everyone. He was silenced by Richard, clearly opposed to the strange man’s wishes. Galavan payed no mind to him and moved back to stand in front of Barbara.   
By this point you were glaring at him: the words that left him were superficial, it was as bright as day that he wanted something out of you. No sane man of such wealth would go out of their way to break a handful of looneys out of the asylum. As Galavan moved to touch Barbara, Richard spoke up, his voice hard and agitated. He thanked Galavan for the breakout but did not want any part of his funfair game. With that he was released. If it were not for the guard still placed on your mouth you would’ve agreed with him. All you wanted was to get out, leave Gotham run far away and never look back. Start again. As he began to walk to the door he spoke one last time. The last time you heard his voice.  
“I’ll be taking Barbara with me-“ before he finished Galavan interrupted.  
“Where you’re going, Miss Kean won’t be following. Tabitha show him the way out.” The sinister tone in his voice made your stomach drop, you stiffened as Tabitha reached for the whip fastened to her waist, a dark smile on her face as she snapped forward. Gurgling, choking gasps for air as he was yanked back to the floor. A moment later and Tabitha was upon him, like a lioness and her prey. She brandished a dagger, the morning sun reflecting off the silver blade like a ritual knife. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t dare open them as the sound of punctured flesh filled your ears. You jumped the warm blood splashing on the skin of your arms.   
“Anyone else want to leave?” At that, Jerome’s manic laughter began again, shakes of fear ran through your body. In that moment you knew you were stuck. There was no way out of this that would end well. You missed the asylum, your dark and gritty cell. You missed the strange but humorous chats of the group.   
You peeked one eye open at the feeling of hands on your chin. You were met with the bloodstained face of Tabitha. Her eyes dilated, a sick and twisted smirk on her face. Clearly she was pleased. She noticed your gaze on her as she looked up, directly into your fearful eyes. Her smirk softened as she reached around to the back of your head.   
“Let’s get this off, shall we?” Her voice was gentle, a sharp contract to her appearance. You shakily nodded your head. Her hands worked quickly and delicately as the straps were loosened and unclasped. It was a nice change to the Arkham guards ripping the uncomfortable mask off you. Moments later the mask was off. Soon after the straps keeping you too the upright gurney were removed and you stumbled forward, legs wobbling and weak.   
You shook your head and moved to rub your neck, God was it great to get that damned thing off. You looked up, everyone else was spread around the apartment, exploring the various different items that adorned the room. Barbara, as disinterested as always, was eying up Tabitha. Everyone was occupied with something or other, everyone but Jerome. He was still, staring at you with wide eyes. A small smile, almost genuine, was on his lips. You tilted your head ion confusion, his stare was beginning to make you uncomfortable, more so due the fact you found yourself enjoying the way he looked at you. After a few seconds  you realised why he looked at you: that was the first time he had seen your entire face. You couldn’t help the redness that blossomed up your cheeks, it was flattering but highly embracing. He noticed his affect and the soft look was quickly replaced with a flirtatious smirk.   
You spun around eager to go find something to take your mind off his look but before you could take a step his hand caught your wrist, a strong vice like grip around your arm. You couldn’t bring your eyes up to look at his, still to red faced and shy.  
“Ah c’mon (Y/N), you weren’t ever this shy back in Arkham, who would’ve you had such a cute little face hidden under that hideous guard they put on ya!” His voice was playful ever, accentuated with his token chuckle at the end. You plucked up the courage to look up, everything seeming so reminiscent of the first time he sat with you. When your eyes met the smile widened and you couldn’t keep the tug of your lips at bay, joining him with a much more gentle smile.   
“So Sweets, we going to have some fun or are we just going to stand here for days?” You couldn’t help the small giggle that came out and Jerome almost cooed at the noise.   
“What’ve you got in mind?” You asked, your voice was slightly meek and quiet, the first words you had uttered to another person other than the doctors at Arkham, and that person was Jerome.  
“Oh I’ve got big, no, huge things planned for the two of us, my dear!” Although you were were enjoying the company of him, you couldn’t help but sense the underlying darkness to his voice, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he spoke. You could only wish he wasn’t dragging you down a rabbit hole of pure madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOO


	4. Hidden Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relationship deepens and also darkens as you witness first hand the true nature of Jerome Valeska.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jerome gets pretty possessive so warning.

Jerome was lain on the grand leather couch in the penthouse, twiddling with a small pistol in hand. He was dressed in night clothes yet it was midday, silky blue striped pyjamas with a rich burgundy robe. He seemed intrigued with the weapon, toying with the various little parts on the silver metal body.

You stood in the hallway leading into the living space. You had not long awoken for it was an usually quiet morning; by this time Greenwood or A would be running amok and making more noise than a high school marching band. Letting out a small yawn, you stretched your arms up and over your head. The little noise you had made did not go unnoticed by Jerome. He looked up from the gun and smiled at you. He tossed it aside and patted the space next to him, signalling for you to join him.

During the couple of weeks you had spent in the penthouse  your relationship with the aforementioned ginger had developed. What had started as flirtatious behaviour (on his part) and shy responses had become some form of romance. Nothing direct but it was a given that you two were together. Jerome had made it clear to the other guys to  even try anything with you and his warning had seemed to work. Every moment he was there, the pair of you spent together. Boredom often overcame all your senses when he was sent off on one of Galavan’s ‘errands’.  
Your arms dropped limply to your side as your made your way to him. With a small spin you fell back into the cushioned leather. You let out a small sigh of contentment and comfort as you sank into the plush sofa. You felt a weight lay around your shoulders and you were then pulled closer to Jerome, his arm stayed strewn over you.

You stiffened and turned your head to face him. At the sight of his gentle smile you relaxed again, happy to find he was rather comfy. It had been a while since you had seen that smile. He and the boys had been out a few days after the breakout to “make an introduction to the city” as Galavan said. You daren’t ask what they had been up to, but the signature manic laughter that you had heard upon the arrival back was more than enough of an indicator to you. It wasn’t good news at all.

Being in the Galavan penthouse was not so different to still being in Arkham: you had now contact with the outside world, no freedom. Sure you weren’t manhandled around by the guards and kept silent by that damned mouth piece. Yet it was just as, if not more, boring than depressing asylum. You had been left in the forsaken apartment with Tabitha and Barbara, the latter would frequently complain that the boys were having all the fun. Only the boys were permitted to leave, Theo mentioning something about preparing you all for important roles. On one hand you wanted nothing more than to get out into the city and feel alive again, but on the other you didn’t want to do anything you would regret again. You didn’t want to lose control of your morals, lose it and get in the same mess that got you here.

In all honesty you had missed Jerome’s presence. The environment was bland without him. Tabitha and Barbara were lovely women, most of the time, but they had each other. Building a romantic relationship of sorts with one another. They treated you much like a child, much too eager to dress you up and play with you as they pleased. Not to your amusement. For the time being you had been able to avoid their pestering but with their increasing boredom and aggravation it was only a matter of time before they got their own way. Your eyebrows furrowed at this thought. You really didn’t want to be turned into a living doll for their idea of fun.

“Hey, what’s got you all worked up?” Jerome’s raspy voice cut your thoughts off. As he questioned he poked at your furrowed brows in soft jabs. You scrunched your face up in annoyance causing him to chuck softly before stopping the pokes. You pouted and turned way, arms crossing over your form. Jerome frowned, displeased by your reluctance to respond after his  little attack.  
He shook your shoulders lightly, his teasing tone replaced with a more gentle one.  
“Seriously (Y/N), what’s on your mind?” The concern in his voice warmed your heart and caused butterflies to flutter within you, leading you to drop the pseudo-annoyance.   
You looked up at him, doe eyed and all, the picture of innocence (if only such a look worked on the officers). You stared into his eyes, a hint of something dark swimming within the pale green. You gawked at him, mouth slightly parted. His handsome features never failed to awe you. In that minute you had forgotten his question for you were too wrapped up in his eyes. He stared back, straight into your own (e/c) eyes. Yet his infatuation with you was much more expertly hidden beneath a cocky but attractive smirk.  
His pale hand came to lightly rest underneath your jaw gently. His fingers were slightly calloused yet soft at the same time on your skin. It was rather nice, a welcome gesture. He moved closer so that his mouth was by your ear.  
“Come on Princess, talk to me.” His whispered, lips brushing ever so slightly against your skin. You could feel the heat rushing to your face. He pulled back just enough to see your reaction, smirk widening at the sight of your flustered appearance.  
With a quick moment to recover you spoke, eyes darting anywhere but him.  
“I was just worrying about Barbara and Tabby getting there way with e and dressing me up, I’m not to keen on becoming their toy.” With your statement Jerome burst into laughter, falling back on the sofa. You scowled down at him, “well at least someones finding this funny” you thought to yourself rolling your eyes at him.   
“Is that it?” He started, breathless from his minor outbreak as he sat up again, “You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you all done up for me.” and with that his smirk was back as if it had never left. You swatted him on the arm but couldn’t help the grin that spread on your lips at him.

Things then took a dark turn.  
Before you could turn away, Jerome had suddenly grabbed your jaw. This time it wasn’t a gentle lift but instead a tight and firm grip. With wide eyes you looked into his. That underlying darkness had now consumed them.  
“I hope you know only I’m allowed to play with you, not Barbara, not Tabitha and certainly none of those other freaks. It would just be for me, wouldn’t it Princess?” He punctuated his words with his insane grin. You were shocked: this was the first time he had acted this way in front of you, let alone directly in front of you. Then you realised, unlike yourself, Jerome was aware and pleased with what he did to get in Arkham. He had no regrets, no care for others. Clearly your silence angered him and his grip on you tightened more, it was becoming painful.  
“Wouldn’t it.” This time it was much harsher, more cold and cruel. You were scared, but underneath the layer of fear you were fascinated and drawn even more to him and his twisted nature.  
“Y-yes Jerome.” you stuttered out and he released your jaw. He soon pulled you close again in a much softer embrace, the darkness dissolved away and the rose tinted lens was back over him as he whispered into your hair.

“Good Girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen next?? Find out soon, hopefully next part will be up at the end of the week depending on if I get my work done this week tbh...


End file.
